Check out my guest post over at ‘Kiwibloke’ blog.
Strange morning at the chicken run
June 20, 2009I’m still not quite used to the chicken routine. There were no farm-fresh eggs in my life growing up in suburban Detroit. I never had chickens on the back porch overlooking the alley in my Chicago apartment.
So last Saturday it was already 10.30 am by the time I remembered to feed the chickens. It’s like I had a temporary brain blip, and for a moment I forgot I was living on a farm in New Zealand.
It was not going to be a normal morning, at least not as far as the chickens were concerned. And it was only going to get weirder as the morning progressed.
In the refrigerator there was a special treat for the chooks, and when I went to get it Rick said, “You’re so late. By they time you get out there, they’ll be dead.”
I laughed and took out the small plastic container. “Don’t be horrible.”
Picking up the oil
June 13, 2009Rick and I drove up to the olive press and looked in through the ornate metal gate.
It was dark out, and the lights were still on inside. Diane of ‘Pressing Engagements’ was still pressing olives. She works furiously throughout May and June, then things go quiet for the olive presses of the Wairarapa valley.
We wanted to pick up our oil and get it home to taste it right away, in order to see if the frosts had damaged the taste. We’d gone to great lengths on harvest day to make sure we’d sorted out as much frost-damaged fruit as possible. But were our efforts enough?
Diane smiled when she saw us. “Your oil is beautiful,” she said immediately, and then waved us in through the gate.
Does she say that to all the boys?
Posted by Moon Over Martinborough 














